I Will
by jlsparks96
Summary: NOT AtU Meet Clara Holland and her experience growing up in Liverpool in 1957 with her best friend Paul McCartney. Beatles fanfiction.
1. Meet Clara Grace Holland

Some might say that I'm odd, a black sheep, or an outcast. I like to think I'm unique. Let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Clara Grace Holland, and my family and I are from England in a small place called Liverpool and the year is 1957. It isn't much, but its home. My family is fairly normal, large, but normal. My parents married out of high school, and about a year after they married, our small family began.

Their first child is my brother, Adam, my only brother. He was born in 1932, ten years before me, making him 25 years old. Adam and I have the typical big brother little sister relationship. I guess I've always looked up to him in a way. After high school, Adam went to college and became a math teacher at the local middle school. He was always so smart.

The next child my parent had was my sister Charlotte who is 22 now. I rarely hear from her anymore. After Charlotte graduated high school, she went to college and met Matthew. When Matt got a job offer in the states, the two got married and left. I reckon Charlotte checks in once a week or so with mom. We were never that close anyway.

After Charlotte, came my sister Natalie. Natalie and I are as close as two sisters can be. Even though she is 21 and I'm only 15, we've always had this connection. She takes me everywhere she goes, and I know I can talk to her about anything, boys, school, mom and dad, anything. She has always been there for me. When she started going to college, I remember being so worried that she would run off and leave like Adam and Charlotte did, but she just goes to the local community college, Liverpool College of Art. She didn't even have to move! Natalie is a lot like me in ways, different. She doesn't really have much drive to do great in school. She's more laid back.

Next in line was the bane of my existence, Josephine. She's only 18 years old, but you'd think she's experienced everything the world has to offer. In her senior year of high school, Jo plans to go to a university and study history, a completely useless subject in my opinion. Other than school, Jo doesn't really show an interest in anything else. If she did, I would know. We shared a room together for years until Charlotte moved out. After that, we all got our own rooms.

I was the last born in our family. I will forever be known as little Clara Holland. Like I said before, I'm different. I have no female friends except maybe Natalie, but she's my sister so she doesn't really count. My best friend is our neighbor Paul McCartney. We've been friends ever since he moved in the neighborhood when he was 10. He goes to an all boy school, so we don't get to see each other much during the day, but we usually spend a lot of time together in the afternoon. On the weekends, sometimes Natalie will take Paul and me to the local clubs to listen to the rock bands play.

Paul and I form a bond when it comes to music. Elvis, Chuck Berry, you name it and we've heard it. So many weekends have been spent with the both of us spread out on his bed listening to his dad's music collection. Jim McCartney's taste in music is one I can admire. He usually listens to jazz, which is great, but on some days, he comes home from work with a new/used Elvis album and we all celebrate by blasting the music. Even Mike, Paul's little brother, gets into it. Lately, Paul's been teaching himself how to play the guitar, and he's actually not half bad at it. He's a lefty, so he had to re-string his guitar to play. The things that boy can do are unbelievable at times.

Thinking about Paul has reminded me of something. As I lay across my bed in my room, I lifted up to look at the clock. 4:00. Paul should be getting off the bus any minute now. I quickly jumped off the bed and headed down the steps where Jo was there to greet me.

"Just what do you think you're doing, twerp?" She said, with her nose stuffed in a book.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Not that it's any of _your_ business, but I'm going to wait for Paul at the bus stop." I said, slipping on my shoes.

"If you keep glued to him like that, he's going to think you have a crush on him."

I scoffed at her, Paul McCartney, my best friend? Our bond was purely platonic. "It's not my fault you don't have friends Josephine, don't go thinking wrong of mine."

She gave me a mean look. "I do too have friends!"

"Whatever." I said before I stormed outside to wait for Paul. I walked the path on the sidewalk that Paul and I share every morning before we part for our separate busses. His bus hasn't arrived yet. I look a seat on the bench and waited. For a few minutes, and after a few minutes, I saw his bus coming. As the bus screeched to a halt, I waved at the bus driver, Mr. Harrison, who I know from having to tell him to wait when Paul is running late for school. He's a good guy. Paul jumped off his bus and hurried to greet me with his usual greeting.

"Clara! How's it going?" He said, slinging his guitar case around his side and giving me a small hug.

"It's going." I said. "I forgot you brought your guitar to school today!" I said, relieving him from the weight of his backpack and sliding it on my shoulders. "Did you meet up with that guy, George, and play like you planned?"

It wasn't until then I noticed the scrawny looking boy with dark hair and a guitar strapped across his shoulder getting off the bus behind Paul. "Clara, this is George Harrison. We decided to practice at my house instead of at school. We were swamped with tests today. George, this is my friend Clara Holland I was telling you about."

"It's nice to meet you Clara." He said in a thick Liverpool accent.

"Good to meet you George." I said, shaking his hand. The poor boy must have been nervous, he was very quiet. The again, a lot of guys are quiet around me. Let's just say I don't dress like other girls. I hate wearing dresses. I think they're stupid, and I hate my legs. Right now, I'm just wearing a pair of jeans, black converse, and a big tee shirt that use to be Adam's.

Just then, Mike came up behind George off the bus. "Clara!" He shouted as he ran to give me a hug. Paul's brother was only two years younger than us, but he was just like a little brother to me.

I ruffled his hair. "Hey, bud! Have much homework today?"

Mike sighed. "I have a lot. It's mostly math."

"I'm sorry Mikey. You'd better get started before you get distracted." I said using the nickname he hated. After Mike stuck his tongue out at me, he raced home.

Once Mike was gone, it was just Paul, George, and me. "If you guys need a place to play, my house is empty, well if you can ignore Jo that is." I offered. "I know how Jim can get while you're playing music when Mike is trying to work on homework."

Paul looked at George. "Would you care to play at Clara's house?"

George shrugged. "I guess that would be okay as long as Clara's parents are okay with the noise."

I chuckled. "My parents are at work, but they wouldn't mind anyway. Paul brings his guitar over all the time, what's one more?"

I walked into my home with Paul and George no far behind me. Jo hadn't left her spot on the couch. I threw Paul's backpack off into the designated backpack area next to mine scattered on the floor. George mimicked my moves with his own backpack. "What are you doing?" Josephine asked, looking up from her book.

I looked back at Paul and George and then at Jo. "This is Paul's friend George; we're going up to my room. George plays the guitar like Paul." I sighed. "George, this is my sister Jo. She's annoying, do what I do and try your best to just pretend she's not here."

Jo rolled her eyes and then planted them back in her book. "Mom's not going to like you bringing up two boys in your room while no one's here."

I scoffed at her and then led the guys up the stairs into my room. "It's just Paul." I shouted back, which seemed to get a laugh out of George.

Up in my room, the boys tried their best to imitate songs and attempted to write their own. I sat in the corner of my room, giving my opinions on my beanbag chair. George sat on my desk chair staring at his guitar and attempting to mimic Chuck Berry. "I didn't know you were the bus driver's son, George." I said throwing a small ball at the wall opposite of me.

"Not really something to brag about I guess." He said, not really looking up. "Hey Clara, What do you think of this?" He said hitting a chord not known to man on his guitar. My face must have turned sour, because I heard him mumble under his breath "Everyone's a critic." Paul sat sprawled out on my bed. He was strumming his guitar and writing something down.

"Are you writing a song?" I asked Paul.

He quickly shuffled his papers away. "It's not finished yet." He folded the papers up and put them in his jean pocket. "You know how I am with new material."

"Oh, come on." I said reaching for the papers. "You showed me the song about your mom."

I could see Paul blushing slightly. "This one's different."

I decided to just drop it when I heard my mom coming through the front door. "Sounds like mom's home." I announced. Paul, George and I traveled down the stairs to greet my mother. "Hello mom, how was work?"

Mom was hanging up her sweater on the coat rack when she smiled at me. "Hi honey." She said pulling me into a hug. Examining her closer, I could tell she was exhausted. She was still dress in her nurses' uniform, the usual white dress and hat. "Work was atrocious, as usual. I don't know when they're going to realize they need more nurses in that doctors office. Oh, hello dear. I didn't see you there." She said noticing Paul by the staircase and taking off her hat. "I'm sorry, we haven't met." She said to George, turning to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry mom. This is Paul's friend from school, George."

George nodded to my mother. "It's nice to meet you Mrs. Holland."

My mom smiled at him. "It's nice to meet you dear. So, what have you kids been up to this evening?" Mom asked, heading into the kitchen to start dinner. The three of us followed.

We took a seat at the kitchen table. "We've just been up in Clara's room playing guitar." Paul said. "George plays guitar too."

Mom looked slightly troubled by this information. "All alone," She asked. "Where was Jo?"

"I don't know." I said honestly. "When we went up there, she was on the couch reading a book. She was home though."

Mom closed her eyes and let out a sigh. "Clara, you can't just…" She was interrupted by the arrival of Natalie coming home from school. "We're in here Natalie." Mom dropped the subject after she was interrupted.

"Hey there kiddos." Natalie said while she ruffled my hair. "I think your dad's looking for you, Paul." Both of the boys suddenly sprang up.

"I guess that means I better be getting home. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Paul asked.

"You bet." I said giving him a hug goodbye.

I gave George a slightly awkward hug. "Feel free to come over any time George."

The boys said goodbye to my mother and sister, grabbed their backpacks and guitars and were gone with the promises of Paul returning tomorrow. Before the door even completely closed, mom called me back into the kitchen where she was cooking supper. "I think we need to have a little talk. Natalie, can you take over supper for a moment?" Mom quickly rushed me up the steps into my bedroom and closed the door. "Why don't you have a seat sweetheart?" I took a seat on my bed while my mom sat down, facing me on my desk chair. She looked like she was ready to jump out of her skin.

"Is everything okay mom?" I ask, looking at her quizzically.

She sighed and looked at me. "Do you remember how we had the sex talk a few years ago?" Those words alone left my skin crawling.

"Yes mother, every excruciating detail. Oh god, we aren't going to go through it again are we?" I said hopping off of my bed, ready to make a quick run to the door if necessary. Mom took my arm and pulled me to sit back on the bed.

She laughed slightly. "No, no. We don't need that again. I just want you to be aware of something sweetie." I could allow myself to relax a little. "You see honey; Paul is a young man now. I know George is younger, but he's a young man too, and I just don't think it's very appropriate for a young woman to be alone in her room with two young men especially when there's no adult around. I'm not mad, I know Paul is just you're friend, but you both are at such a delicate age right now."

"Wait, Paul and I can still see each other, right?" I said nervously. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't talk to my best friend. He has gotten me through some of the hardest time of my life. I don't know how I'd live without him.

"Of course you can honey." I felt a sigh of relief. "You just have to maybe stay down stairs where your sister can keep an eye on you two. You can only come up here when an adult is home. Dad or Me, that's it, and absolutely no closing the door.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! "Are you kidding me? How can Paul and I talk bad about Jo INFRONT OF JO?" Mom gave me a very judging look that I did not appreciate at the moment. "This doesn't make any sense mom, I don't even think of Paul that way!"

Mom stood up from my chair. "I'm sorry Clara, but that's the new rule. I'll be talking to Jim tonight about my new set of rules so don't think we have any different set of rules for the McCartney's. I'm sorry dear." Mom walked to my door and opened it. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour or so. Dad should be home soon." She closed the door behind her.

This may sound like an overreaction, but I lay back in my bed and started crying. No more privacy with Paul, and why? Is it because we've grown up? Hopefully we'll still be lucky enough to at least walk to the bus stop together. That's fantastic, 5 whole minutes in the early morning. What am I going to do?


	2. Friends,Kissing,& Other Awkward Stories

It was 2 a.m., but I just couldn't get to sleep. I lay on my stomach on my bed drawing in my sketch book. Dinner tonight was very quiet. Mom had Natalie try to explain to me why being alone with Paul wasn't a good idea, but I didn't want to even consider it a bad idea. Unfortunately, when dad got home from work, he told me how he agreed with mom. How am I going to live without my best friend being there to talk to? Sometimes I wonder if parents just sit around all day and think of ways to torcher and upset their kids.

A sudden noise pulled me out of my thoughts. I thought I was imagining it until I heard it again. I sounded like it was coming from my window. I hoped up from my bed to check outside. I smiled a wide grin when I saw Paul standing on the ground, waving up at me. Laughing, I waved back. I unlocked my window and slid it open. "What are you doing?" I whispered down at him.

"Can I come up?" He asked. Rolling my eyes, I motioned him to come up. "Great, now, how do I actually do that?"

Taking a second to think, the answer suddenly came to me. "Hang on a second." I whispered down at him. Moving away from the window, I went to the top drawer of my desk and dug around unit, Ah ha! Making a quick jog to the window, I saw Paul looking back at his house making sure nobody was awake. "Take these keys!" I whispered to him. "Open up the shed in the back yard and find the ladder. It should be long enough to get you up here."

Tossing the keys down to him, he caught them and headed to the shed. A couple of minutes later, he came out of the shed with the ladder. After I yelled at him nervously to be careful, he started his journey up to my window. Once he reached his destination, I pulled him in by his jacket. As soon as he was safely inside, we embraced each other in a hug. "Can you believe this shit?" Paul said angrily.

"I take it your dad told you what my parents said." I said sadly.

Paul sighed and sat on my bed. "It's irrational and unfair. We're only friends. Why wouldn't we be able to be alone together? Just because we're teenagers doesn't mean we're going to go off and start having sex! That's absurd!"

I took a seat beside Paul. "You're preaching to the choir. I mean, this whole situation is stupid. I haven't even had my first kiss yet!"

He got quiet for a moment. "You haven't had your first kiss?" He asked in a whisper.

I could feel my cheeks go red as I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat. Paul and I never really talked about more intimate subjects. "Not exactly, no. Billy Forney tried to kiss me last year on a dare, but I slapped him before he could." I took a second to think. "Have you had your first kiss already?" A small blush fell across his face.

"I kissed Ruby Naylor about a year ago by the bushes at my house." He blurted. I sat in shock for a moment. Paul kissed Ruby? Ruby Naylor lives two blocks over from Paul and me, and she is one of the most annoying girls around school. Why would he kiss her? I didn't know how I felt about this information. I didn't know if I wanted to tease him, be mad at him, or be upset with him. I just sat there shocked.

"You kissed Ruby?" I said. It felt funny saying it out loud. "Was-Was she a good kisser?" I asked; not even entirely sure what that question meant or implied.

He had to think about it for a moment. "I don't know, I mean, who else do I have to compare her with? I guess it wasn't horrible. Her lips were kind of chapped and it only lasted for a moment, but it wasn't unbearable."

I chuckled a bit. "I wonder if I would be a good kisser." I lay back on my back on my bed and thought aloud to myself. Before I knew it, Paul was laying over me, supporting himself with his arms on either side of me. He smiled and looked into my eyes before he closed the distance between us and our lips met. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth slightly; enjoying the feel on Paul's lips on my own. It was like I could feel electricity sparking between our lips. It was incredible.

After we broke apart, I didn't know what to say. I was speechless. "Whoa," was all Paul could manage. "I mean, yeah, you are a good kisser, yeah, really good." I smiled at him.

"You're a good kisser too." I said shyly.

We both just sat there in silence for a moment. It was a few minutes before Paul spoke again. "I'd probably better be getting back home before someone notices." I nodded as he stepped to the window. "I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

Little did I know that was going to be the last time I saw or heard from Paul for a whole year.

…

_One Year Later_

After school, I had noticed George coming over more and more to Paul's house. We always made eye contact when he would go to visit, and we always smiled politely and waved but other than that not a word. Paul hadn't come over at all during this time. I couldn't help but blame myself. Maybe we'd still be friends if I hadn't made him kiss me. I mean, I didn't know he was going to kiss me, but I shouldn't have talked about kissing, I should have just bitten my tongue.

During the year of being shunned by Paul, I managed to make a new friend at school, Cynthia. Yes, an actual girl! Cynthia was a sweet girl. She was a senior and an A+ student with a love for music and often let me copy her math homework. We met at dance team try-outs and when we both made the team, we became close friends.

"Clara," Cynthia called from the hall. "Glad I caught you. I need to talk to you." She pulled me into the empty bathroom. "John's throwing a party tonight. How would you like to come? It'll be a great party!" John Lennon was Cynthia's boyfriend and I couldn't stand him. He was the biggest prick sometimes, but if he liked you, that meant you were pretty damn special. Either way, I'm only a sophomore, and to be invited to a senior party was a big honor, how could I refuse?

"I'll be there." I said reluctantly. After Cynthia gave me the details of the party, I gave her a strange look. "The party's tonight?"

"It was kind of last minute. Besides, it's Friday night, it's not like we have school tomorrow." She tried to explain. "I can come and pick you up at your house around 8, think you'll be ready by then?" I took a second to consider.

I sighed. "I guess."

…

When I got home, I quickly went up the steps into my room to get ready, ignoring Jo sitting at the table doing homework. Searching through my closet, I tried to find the perfect outfit for a party. I had started wear dresses a little more since I've been on the dance team, but only on special occasions. My mom is still pissed that she can't get me in anything but converse.

Going through my closet, I managed to find a white button up blouse and a short black leather skirt. That is the perfect look! After slipping my clothes on I re-applied my make-up and ran a brush through my hair. When I was done with my appearance, I still had a few hours to kill. I guess doing my homework wouldn't kill me.

I went back downstairs and grabbed my bag, fishing out my Algebra book. "Christ Clara, what are you wearing? Do you really think that's appropriate?" I rolled my eyes at her.

"Why don't you pay less attention on my attire and more attention on graduating? Shouldn't mom be home?"

Josephine looked up from her book. "No, dad took off work to surprise mom for their anniversary. They're out on a date and won't be back until late tonight. Natalie has class until 9 tonight. It's just me and you until then."

"No way, I'm going out with Cynthia tonight." I announced.

Jo looked at me with suspicion. "Where are you guys going?" I rolled my eyes at her.

"You're not my mother Josephine. I don't have to tell you anything."

She ignored me for the rest of the day while we did our homework together in silence. Once 8 rolled around, I heard Cynthia's car in the driveway, right on time. "Cyn's here don't wait up." I called to Jo

"Don't' forget a jacket! It's the middle of January, you nut!" Jo yelled back. Before I tucked my Algebra book back in my bag, I grabbed my sweater off the coat rack and trading it for my purse. Once I was out the door I jumped into Cynthia's car and then we were off.

…

Once we got to John's, the first thing I noticed was the copious amounts of alcohol and drunk guys staggering everywhere. Rock and Roll music was blasting in the room and I could barely here what Cynthia was shouting at me. "Do you want me to get you a drink?" She leaned in and yelled in my ear. I nodded and she darted off to see what she could find.

Looking through the crowd, I could only recognize a few faces. You see, John is a college student. He actually goes to the same school as my sister Natalie. Cynthia plans to go there in the future too. As I was saying, I don't recognize many faces. The only reason I know a few is because of Natalie. I better steer away from them. Natalie is cool, but she would never agree to let me go to a party like this. I waited in the crowed waiting for Cynthia to come back when I saw John heading towards me. "Hey little Clara," he said ruffling my hair. I could tell he was a little buzzed. "Aren't you a little too young to be here?"

"Oh John, leave the poor girl alone." said Cynthia coming back and handing me a beer. "A girl needs to let loose every once and a while, huh Clara?" I smiled at her and undid the bottle cap. Cynthia and I tipped our bottles to each other and then took large swigs of beer. John wrapped his arms around Cynthia and kissed her. Kissing always led to a make out session with those two, so I decided to ditch them and mingle with new people.

I was just hanging out around the record player, listening to the music, when some guy dressed in leather bumped into me, causing my beer to go flying. "Hey! You owe me a new beer!" I said, tapping on the guy's shoulder. He was actually pretty tall. When he turned around my jaw dropped to the floor. "Paul?"

"Clara?" He said in equal surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited by a friend," I explained. "What are you doing here?" We just stood there looking at each other for a moment. "And when the hell did you get so tall?"

He chuckled a bit before he answered. "It's my friend's party. George is here too, somewhere." He took a second to look me up and down. "Wow, you look so different." I smiled at him

"I'll take that as a complement."

He jumped back a bit. "Oh, no I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you look so beautiful. Not that you weren't back then, you just look so, grown up." He gulped. "You, um, dyed your hair. That's new. I like it. It suits you."

I looked at my bleach blonde hair and picked up a strand. "Yeah, it pissed mom off, but I think it was worth the grounding. Maybe you would have known about that if you had come over every once in a while. You could have popped in and said hello every now and then." I said, my smile fading with every word.

Paul looked around the room and picked up my hand. "Let's talk somewhere quieter." He said while leading me outside. Once we made it to the front porch, we took a seat on the chair swing. "Mind if I smoke?" He asked while fishing in his pocket. I shook my head no. Once he lit his cigarette, the conversation I'd wanted to have for years began. "I'm so sorry I haven't been talking to you much lately."

I sighed. "Really, that's all you're going to say? Sorry? It's been a year, and you haven't said one word to me. Fuck, I haven't even seen you!" I took a deep breath to calm down. "Sorry, I really don't want to fight. I just want to know why."

Paul put his hand on mine. "I know, it was a shitty thing to do and I'm a rotten friend. It was just…" He paused. "It was the kiss that we shared that night I snuck through your bedroom window." He must have read my sad facial expression, because he was quick to defend himself. "No, no, not like that. The kiss was amazing. It was really, truly amazing. It was so good it scared me. I didn't want to lose you as a friend. When I went to kiss you that night, I honestly didn't think anything of it, but, when our lips touched, I don't know. All I knew was I didn't want to lose you. Every day I thought about going to your house, but I would only think of ways to kiss you or get you to kiss me. I'm sorry Clara."

"Wow," I took a second to let this new information sink in. "Paul, I just want to be friends again. Do you think we can start over again?"

Paul smiled a small smile. "I think so." He said. He brought me in to a tight embrace. "I missed you Clara girl."

"Hey Paulie, find yourself a bird?" came the drunk voice of John.

I stopped hugging Paul and looked at him. "You're friends with John Lennon?"

Paul chuckled. "He's not that bad of a guy, really. You've just got to get used to him."

"I'd rather not." I whisper to Paul as John sat down next to him. Cynthia wasn't far behind and she took a seat next to me on the chair. We were all packed pretty tight on the porch. "So Paul," I said to break the silence that drifted over us. "How do you know John?"

Paul stretched his arms to the back of the chair to give us all a little more space. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "We met last summer; I heard his band playing at the festival down at St. Peter's. I met Johnny here after the gig and he actually let me in the band. I should have told you about all of this sooner."

"Clara, I didn't know you already knew Paul." Cynthia said to me.

John snapped out of him drunken trans. "Wait, wait, wait. Clara? Clara, Clara. That's the Clara you've been gabbing on about?" John sat up a little to look at Paul more clearly. "Is she the one you wrote that song for? You're wasting your time mate, Clara doesn't date."

Cynthia elbowed John in the side. "John, shush."

John ignored Cynthia's protests. "She hasn't even had a boyfriend yet and she's turning 16."

Paul and I were blushing madly while Cynthia dragged John away with the promises of more beer. "Well," Paul said trying to break the tension growing between us. "That was embarrassing. Do you want to go inside and get another drink? I'm pretty sure john took yours while you had your back turned." I laughed.

"I don't really feel like getting pissed tonight." I leaned back in the chair to look up at the sky. "The stars are beautiful tonight." Paul leaned back on the chair next to me.

"Yeah they are." He agreed. "Hey, I have a better idea." He stood up from the chair and dusted himself. I just sat there watching him with curiosity. "Coming?" He asked, holding out his hand for me. I slowly got up from the chair and took his hand. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "I stole these from John when he wasn't looking, just in case."

I raised my eyebrows. "But Paul, you can't drive."

He chuckled. "I know that silly, c'mon!" We raced through the parked cars, hands locked together, until we found John's car. Paul unlocked the trunk and pulled out a blanket, spreading it across the hood of the car. Opening the driver's door, Paul turned on the radio. Not so surprising, John had it on a station that was playing Chuck Berry's _Rock and Roll Music._ Paul and I lay back on the hood of the car and looked up at the sky. "That's better, huh?"

Laying down, listening to Chuck Berry, it was like I was having a flashback. The only difference was we were outside in the middle of January. I started to shake from the cold. "Here." Paul said, sitting up a little, slipping off his jacket.

"I can't take you're jacket Paul, you'll freeze!" I said, gripping my sweater tighter.

Paul smiled and covered me with his jacket, not taking no for an answer. "You need to warm up." He said, trying to warm me up by rubbing my arms.

"Thank you." I whispered. After a moment of blissful silence I had to speak up. "Why do you think John had a blanket in his trunk?"

"Let's try not to think about it."


End file.
